


Circles

by ladydragon76



Series: Racers [5]
Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: blurr, character: fasttrack, genre: drama, series: racers, verse: idw, warning: canon- what canon?, warning: mind-fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Weekly Request fill for tf_rare_pairing prompt - Fasttrack/Blurr: Back to life to race you to death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circles

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Mention of robot reproduction, but it’s vague.  
>  **Notes:** Making stuff up like whoa! Takes place in IDW Comic timeline of Robots in Disguise. They’re on Cybertron, the war’s over, and thousands of neutrals have returned. Ensues the drama!

**Title:** Circles  
 **‘Verse:** IDW  
 **Series:** Racers  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Pairing:** Fasttrack/Blurr  
 **Summary:** Weekly Request fill for tf_rare_pairing prompt - Fasttrack/Blurr: Back to life to race you to death  
 **Warnings:** Mention of robot reproduction, but it’s vague.  
 **Notes:** Making stuff up like whoa! Takes place in IDW Comic timeline of Robots in Disguise. They’re on Cybertron, the war’s over, and thousands of neutrals have returned. Ensues the drama!

 

**Circles**

 

Blurr knew he had changed. He’d changed when _purpose_ had infused every micron of his being, made his spark pulse for something that was, for a damn change, _out_ side of himself. Optimus’ words had sank deep, called to a part of him that Blurr hadn’t even fathomed could exist.

He’d changed between one instant and another.

Impossible? Hardly, but then he’d always been remarkable, so he would admit it was improbable in most mechs.

He hadn’t changed as much as he had thought though, as he stared at the mech before him. A ghost, but not. Blurr remembered that smirk. He remembered practicing in front of a mirror to imitate it, then improve upon it.

“Surprised?” Fasttrack purred.

“You were dead. You chose the ‘Cons, and you died before I even faced the fact that there was a war.” Blurr kept staring. The Decepticon badge was gone, Fasttrack returned to very nearly how Blurr remembered him from when they’d still been friends. Or, well, what passed for friends amongst the Racers.

“Yeah, well. You were always a little slow.” A dig that once would have riled Blurr. Now he just stared. “Primus! They were right when they rescued me. This war has ruined everything. Even you. I know I pushed, we all did, but you really _should_ be processing faster than this.” Blurr flinched as Fasttrack’s hands landed on his shoulders. “There are good… no. _Incredible_ medics. Medics that never had to stop learning their craft and lower themselves to battlefield hacks. I know a few. I could get you in to see one.”

Blurr stepped back out of reach, the concern genuinely disturbing him. It’d been a long time since he’d played the social status game. “This isn’t slow processing. This is shock. I saw you. You were dead.”

“We still race,” Fasttrack said.

Blurr went very still, optics sharp. “Who is ‘we’?”

Fasttrack shook his helm and chuckled. “You don’t know them. Sparked after I was rescued. There are eight others. For now.”

“There are no tracks here. How conditioned to running at top speed while dodging obstacles are you, or them, for that matter?”

“Blurr,” Fasttrack laughed, then cut it off as Blurr slipped back out of reach again. “What’s wrong with you? I _am_ alive. Story goes that I was in stasis lock with a weak spark pulse, but there _was_ a pulse.”

Blurr snorted. “I don’t think you’re a ghost, you idiot! I don’t trust you! You were a shallow, mean-sparked, selfish glitch who joined the Decepticons out of jealousy!”

“Most of that applies to you, you know.”

“Once. Not anymore. I’ve fought, bled, and risked my life for something bigger than myself. So I could be something more than a spoiled brat that ran in circles.”

Fasttrack’s optics lit behind the transparent visor, and he didn’t hide the sharp edge to his smile fast enough. Blurr cursed inwardly at giving that little clue away. “Trying to prove yourself all along. You’re still that clueless, helpless rookie.”

“Nothing wrong with wanting to be useful.”

“Except when you’re not.”

Blurr narrowed his optics, ignoring the ache of old fear. He’d been a Wrecker. He’d faced the Swarm. He’d risked death a thousand ways in the name of saving Cybertron from tyrannical rule, and he’d been right to do it. He’d saved lives more times than he could count. He was something special surviving amongst the strongest, smartest, most dedicated mechs to ever be sparked. He didn’t need to fear being cast aside. He’d earned his place. “And what is your use, Fasttrack?”

Full lips smirked. “I saved our kind from extinction.”

Blurr frowned, and looked around. There were mechs _everywhere_. He turned back with a raised optic ridge. “Yeah. So did I. So did my friends.”

Fasttrack laughed, and shook his helm. “No. I saved _our_ ,” he motioned back and forth between himself and Blurr, “kind. Racers. We’re _sparked_ just like Seekers. Just like Hunters. There was no one else but me. Well… you, but they didn’t know that, and neither did I. I figured you were dead honestly. I mean the way you took the tracks closing? I figured you’d have drowned yourself in some chemical or another to escape, and been picked off.”

Blurr’s helm shook slowly back and forth. “The eight sparked after you were rescued.”

Fasttrack positively beamed. “Mine. And with the best of everything the medical and engineering councils can design.” He rocked forward, lifting up onto the tips of his feet, slow and controlled. A flex here, and shift of balance there. Showing off. “Good thing there aren’t any tracks yet. I’d run you into the ground.”

“I don’t run out of misplaced pride anymore.”

Fasttrack’s laugh was so loud mechs looked at them. “You did not just say that! _You_? Fragging Pits, Blurr!”

Blurr fought the urge to pout. Fasttrack was no friend, and he would use anything he could get against Blurr. Blurr did take pride in his speed, and his abilities. It was _fun_ , but he had come to terms with the fact that his life was no longer about racing for fame. He got his glory while doing something truly _important_! “You haven’t changed.”

“Clearly you have,” said with that faux pity and sadness that Blurr had tried so hard to emulate once upon a time. Fasttrack shifted gears, and the rush of nostalgia hit Blurr hard. For so long, he’d been the only one that did that. “Ok. I get it. No, really. I do. But guess what, old friend. There’s a new higher purpose for you. Only ten Racer sparks in existence right now.”

Blurr nearly ran as the implications hit him. He did dart sideways and give himself more space when Fasttrack reached for him. He took another mental blow as he realized running from Fasttrack was going to be a lot harder than running from Decepticons had been. “No. Fragging. Way.”

Fasttrack smirked, optics flickering around as more and more mechs slowed and took an interest in their conversation. “We’ll see,” he said. “Talk to you later, Blurr.”

Blurr watched him go, and swore he wasn’t ever going anywhere without his rifle again. Peace his shining skid plate! He really had been at war too long if he’d forgotten predators walked the glittering streets of Cybertron’s cities _well_ before Megatron strapped a cannon to his arm and raised an army.

// _Blurr to Prowl_.// He hadn’t survived as long as he had by forgetting all the games though. It _never_ hurt to get a little backup lined up. // _I have an incident, and what I think may have been a threat against me, to report. When can I see you?_ //

// _Meet me in my office at eighteen hundred._ //

Prowl closed the comm without another word, and Blurr watched the high ridge of Fasttrack’s helm disappear around a corner before he set off for the safety of the base. Too many shocks, and too many hints at things that Blurr wanted no part in. For all he knew, it was nothing more than Fasttrack winding him up, but better safe than dead. Or worse.

Still, a small part of him thrilled at the challenge. Looked like the race was on after all, and Blurr really hadn’t changed _that_ much. He still knew how to look out for number one.

~ | ~

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


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